Afraid
by Creatoriginsane
Summary: "I was afraid, I was in fear. I lived in a closed-off world and kept it that way, but some people came along and literally tore it apart. Seriously, they tore it in shreds." First fic, just experimenting, will act as a prologue to an upcoming one.


Afraid

A/N: I don't know. . . Ouran High School Host Club? First fic, I got addicted because of OHHSC AMVs on YouTube. I'm disappointed that's all, I can't write anything without OCs. . .

Disclaimer: I own what I own, which isn't Ouran.

Warnings: OCs, possible OoC-ness and cliché-ness, possible language

* * *

Afraid

* * *

_Fear._

I was afraid. I was afraid of everything; and because of that I kept secrets, I built my defense on lies, I depended on myself and no one else, not even my sister. No one would know the truth, because it will forever be unspoken. I kept it where no one would hear it, no one would see it, and no one would think of it; I kept it in the dark.

My sister, my twin—Kusahana Ayaka—the sole person who's been with me through my life all the way; she didn't know it. No one did. I kept it that way, until some people—especially one person—tore down those walls of lies right before me.

* * *

"_Kusahana Hoshiri," I said monotonously after pushing my glasses back up. _

"_I'm her twin, Ayaka!" She beamed at them, she was cheerful as always. _

"_Twin? You don't look like twins. . ." The brunette host, Haruhi, commented with blinking eyes. _

True, we didn't look like twins. Ayaka had longer hair, often with a bunch tied in aide ponytail. She had a more rounded, more 'feminine' eyes. Her voice was higher from the two of us; she played the guitar. She was the charismatic one; friendly, flirty, loving, and, caring. Also, she loved color; she loved the bright summer days.

I had shorter hair with a fringe off to the side of my head. I had a more box-like, more 'masculine' eyes. My voice was lower by a few octaves from hers; and I played the piano. I was the so-called smart one; logical, calculative, critical, and sarcastic. I was secretive; I hid many things from the world and kept it that way.

* * *

Honestly, meeting the Host Club was just by chance. It was all Ayaka's fault; she dragged me into practicing in this "Music Room 3", rather than practicing in some abandoned corner of the school.

"_It's too creepy here!" Ayaka said as she pointed to the forest behind the school. _

"_There's nothing in there,"_

"_You do know the stories of that forest, witches are in there." She said fearfully. _

"_Just because occultism is a subject, it doesn't mean that there are re—"_

"_Aaaaaah!" She ran. She just screamed and ran up to a nearby flight of stairs nearby._

"_You're forcing me to follow you. . ." I sighed and followed after her. _

_Soon, I ended up in an abandoned well-lit hallway—too well it; the chandeliers' lights reflected on the mirrors. No one was there, but there was a double-door on the end, so I figured that she was in there. I walked on the marble floor, slowly dragging the piano behind me. I stopped in front of the door, thinking whether to knock or just burst in. _

_I decided, I placed a hand on the knob and turned it; "Alright, Ayaka—" I was greeted by a whirl of rose petals on my face and bright flash of light in my eyes. _

"_Welcome," A voice—a male voice—said seductively. _

_I blinked, slowly adapting to the bright environment, there was a group of people—men—in the room, all dressed in a Sengoku Era-themed fashion. _

_I was silent, so maybe this was the host club she was telling me about. _

"_You must be the Host Club," I said monotonously. _

_A blonde-haired man strode towards me, "And you must be and angel! For I have died and gone to heaven when you walked in." He stared at me with deep purple eyes and took one of my hands in his. _

_I coughed, was he for real? Yes, he was—a real flirt that is. I took my hand away and replied, "Then you must be the guilty soul that once judged, will automatically be sent to hell." I shoved past him and walked towards the group, who was looking at me with confusion, I took out a picture of my sister from my pocket; "Have you seen her?"

* * *

_

Yes, it was all her fault. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have to deal with such sentimental matters. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have to deal with flirts, pick-up lines, and innuendos. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't get the chance of actually talking to men like friends. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't get to feel like a girly-girl, wanting to feel pretty and appreciated. If it wasn't for her, I'd still feel nothing for the opposite sex. If it wasn't for her, I would've never gotten into this predicament called 'love'.

_It's her fault, it's all hers. . ._

* * *

I was morbid. Other than the sciences, I loved morbid subjects. I wouldn't know why I had a liking to it; the subject just seemed to be more fascinating than what I've read from all the textbooks. Death, "accidents", disaster, and unexplainable phenomena interested me very much. Luckily in this school, it had a morbid subject; the occult. Hey, it was the closest thing there was other than books related to it.

I was ecstatic during the hours before the subject. I had a sadistic smile on my face when I was about to enter the room. I sighed and regained my composure, turning the knob slowly, revealing a dimly-lit room looking more like a chemistry lab.

"Is anyone else here?" I peered into the room, looking around, nope, there wasn't anyone there.

I sighed and entered the room, slowly adjusting to the dim lighting. I wonder, does a dark subject must literally be in a dark room? But hey, it's a great welcome from all the exceedingly bright, energy-wasting rooms the school has.

"Finally," I exclaimed, knowing no one was there, "A subject that actually fascinates me. . ." I sat on a chair and placed my bag beside me, taking out the occultism textbook.

"So no one's actually here?" I placed my elbow on the table and my head on my hand. "So the class already started without me?"

"This isn't a class," A voice disturbed her; shocked as she was she almost fell off the chair.

"Woah! Who—who are you? Where are you—wait, what are you?" I exclaimed, shocked and quite afraid.

"I'm a student here in Ouran Academy," A hooded figure appeared in front of me with a small cat puppet, first thing I could think was of the Grim Reaper—the retarded version.

"Kusahana Hoshiri," I held out a hand and said awkwardly, "Nice to. . . meet you, I guess." I tried my best to muster a smile much like how Ayaka would do it.

The figure—he looked down at my hand questioningly, like he was asking, 'What now?'

With a long silence, he shook it with a covered hand, "Umehito Nekozawa,"

"Well, it's nice to—"

"This is Belzeneff!" He smiled widely as he shoved the puppet to my face.

Now I have this strange feeling that this is the start of a unique, dysfunctional, and yet welcoming friendship.

* * *

A/N: Not the end, I think. . . Read and review please! Ideas? Criticisms? Loved it? Hated it? Tell me :) Thank you!


End file.
